


Moss and Sulfur

by Whisper



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, naked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper/pseuds/Whisper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fauna slips away from camp and finds herself completely, unabashedly, and *finally* naked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moss and Sulfur

Fauna is completely, unabashedly, and _finally_ naked for the first time in 6 and a half months.

Months of life on the road and in cramped tents made nudity impossible, and the last time she had had a proper bath was in Ostagar –no, even _that_ had been nothing but a quick rinse of her torso with leggings still clad.

But now, waist-deep in bubbling-hot water and bathed in moonlight, Fauna is blissfully bared to the world. And better yet, she is alone.

The crew had been wandering the deep roads for an immeasurable amount of time, and the lack of sky and wind and sunlight had nearly driven the elf mad. There had been nights –“ _were they even_ nights _without the stars or the setting of the sun to mark them?”-_ during which a horrifying wave of anxiety, like bricks being laid over her, had kept her from even closing her eyes. By the fourth time they had settled down amongst stone and bones to set camp, Fauna realized that she had never been away from the sight of the sky for so long.

The moment they had finally left Orzammar, Fauna fought desperately against the urge to abandon her companions and plunge into the pine forests to clear her head and her heart of that terrible, maddening caged sensation. When at last they pitched their tents before sunset in a clearing on the mountainside, she was the first to offer to go hunt. Alistair had given her a pleading look, perhaps just as desperate to escape if it meant being rid of Morrigan’s incessant bullying and Oghren’s fumes, but Fauna pointedly ignored him

She had heard rumors of hot springs in the area, and the moment she heard the white tail she was tracking disappear behind a boulder and _splash_ she abandoned any desire to feed her comrades.

She stripped the moment she came upon the moonlit pool, gentle only with her bow and quiver. Fauna hardly noticed the sparks trailing behind her left bracer as it skittered across the bedrock border. She tossed her breastband in the same general direction, then her panties. She nearly ripped the pins from her bun, shaking her auburn locks down over her chest.

Standing now in the middle of pool, she’s surprised to note that her hair has grown long enough to cover her breasts, and the sight of her own golden skin shimmering in the pale light makes her feel practically ethereal. Painfully slow she sinks into the water, sighing heavily as all of the tension her back and shoulders have carried for too _damn_ long melts away. She backs into the bedrock and sinks deeper, elated to find a natural algae-coated seat beneath her buttocks. The feeling of the soft loam beneath her feet, and the glow of moonlight sifted through a high cloud bank pulls her back to her life before being ripped from the Sabrae clan and tossed into this whirlwind of Wardendom.

When she was younger, perhaps 12 or 13, Fauna would spend entire days basking this way with the other young females of her clan. They’d gossip about other boys, and occasionally other girls. They’d often braid each other’s hair, or cut it, or plan out their future tattoos. Sometimes they’d even spar, entirely naked, while others watched their form or eyed their bodies, either in jealousy, curiosity, or lust. Every once and awhile, two or three would drift away to “practice”, and Fauna knew firsthand that it wasn’t archery or knifeplay being practiced.

Though she was an orphan, she had had a family. And now, with the death of all but one of Ferelden’s Grey Wardens, it seemed she had been orphaned again.

Fauna shakes the bleak thoughts away, too blissful to tempt that kind of darkness. Her eyes open to a gentle splash nearby, and across the pool she notices a slim mountain cat lifting water from its paw into its mouth. Fauna isn’t afraid; the cat has noticed her but doesn’t react. A soft mewl sounds from behind the feline, and three miniature versions twirl about their mother’s legs. Fauna smiles, and closes her eyes again. Among the trees and the earth and the wild, and beneath Ferelden’s sky, she is home.

* * *

 

When she finally returns to camp, Alistair bounds towards her. It had been _hours,_ and he had fought the urge to head out after her minute after minute. As Fauna curls around herself to dislodge her quiver and bow, and hands him three hares bound on a wire in the process, he notices that her hair is loose… and _damp,_ down her back. Unencumbered, the lithe Warden reaches up to cradle Alistair’s face and presses her lips to his cheek. He notices that her fingers are still pruned, and she smells lightly of moss and sulfur.

“Maker, Fauna, you found a _bath?”_

“Better,” she tells him, and the wildest smile he’s ever seen bursts across her face.

 


End file.
